


back to the floor

by Nakimochiku



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Light BDSM, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:51:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4672454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakimochiku/pseuds/Nakimochiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Technically, it should start when they meet. Raleigh doesn't notice until Mako has him pinned with his back to the floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	back to the floor

Technically it starts when she tips her umbrella back and meets his eyes. Technically it starts right there in the rain with his mouth around an ungainly smile and her little mouth pinched in embarrassment. That’s where it would make sense to start.

But that’s not where Raleigh notices. He notices when she has his  back to the floor, his leg over her arm, his hips tilted up to meet hers. Her hips are tiny, slightly curved and feminine, his leg looks ridiculous over her arm, but he’d like his legs wrapped around her tiny hips, he likes the idea of the ridiculous picture they’d make, he likes--

He can’t take his eyes off hers as they both breathe hard, doesn’t want to move or shake her out of whatever she’s thinking as she keeps him down, wants desperately for her to hold him right here, even as Pentecost’s voice breaks them out of it.

Raleigh notices right there, back to the floor, and has never wanted anything more.

*

Everything about Mako Mori says proper, a good girl who does what she’s told and doesn’t speak unless spoken to. She looks like the type of girl who curtseys and never puts her elbows on the dinner table. She looks like she wrote the book on being ladylike, or at least has it memorized. She looks like the type of girl who never wonders what it would be like to hold a man down, fuck him with purpose, tease him and tell him, no not yet, wait til I’m done.

Raleigh’s glad he’s never been more wrong about the appearances of a person. He supposes when raised by Stacker Pentecost, anyone would come out a little cool and upright, like a stiff little doll. But there's something beneath Mako’s surface that Pentecost was unable to temper, and it makes cracking her good girl facade so much more interesting. That’s probably a bad habit Raleigh has, but he couldn’t care less when it’s all so much fun.

Raleigh’s reckless and Mako is careful and between the two of them they could have something delightful if she just lets him show her. He grins whenever he sees her acting the good girl, and remembers the way she pinned him to the floor like he was nothing at all.

“What?” Mako asks sharply when she catches him looking again, catches his mouth curving into a devilish grin. She paws at her hair to make sure it’s in order, rubs at her mouth to make sure there are no crumbs sticking there, but she can’t find what Raleigh is grinning at. “What?” she asks again.

“Nothing.” he says, and hands her his jello. He hates apple flavour. She frowns suspiciously at him. “Nothing at all.”

*

It’s not like he can come out and say it, Raleigh rationalizes.

It’s not like he can go knock on her door and tell her he likes the way it feels when she pins him down, sometimes he sees the definition of her muscle in her arms and drools, thinks about tasting her skin and bowing to her.

Instead he knocks on her door, gestures at his work out clothes when she opens it sleepily, and offers, “Wanna spar?”

She nods reluctantly, pulls the door open all the way. She sleeps in sweats so she pulls on a new shirt, and follows him out to the kwoon. They have their staffs at their sides, and maybe it’s a little weird that Raleigh wants to relive that first sparring session over and over again. He gives as good as he gets, and she wakes up properly and grunts at him when she attacks, but puts him on his back more than once.

He loves the way she looks when she stares fiercely down at him, staff pressed to his jaw as light as a kiss, even as her muscles tremble and her chest heaves.

It takes her another match to realize he’s letting her win.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t dial down your moves?” She accuses, throwing him down roughly and planting her foot on his belly, a show of her indignation. It’s everything he has not to give under her right there.

He lets his head flop back, squeezes his eyes shut so he can’t see the furrow of her dark brows or the affronted twist of her lips. “I’m not.” he sighs out.

She taps his ribs with her staff. “Then why have you been leaving yourself so open? Why--?”

“I’m probably just tired Mako.” He knocks her foot away and moves to stand. She frowns up at him concerned, her look says, you asked me to spar. He smiles gently. “I’m just tired.”

*

She finds out in the drift. It’s not that he’s chasing the rabbit, it’s just that it keeps coming back, over and over on a loop; the way she swept his leg up over her arm and pressed him down, forcing his hips to lift up into hers so he grimaced in pain and had to give into her lest she truly hurt him. Except the whole thing is fogged over with thoughts, a hot film of want want want, the dirty images of him lifting his hips up into hers, wrapping his leg around her tiny waist, and she can see all the things he pictured, can hear him thinking “yes, just like that, jesus christ.”

She looks at him sharply, but Raleigh’s so embarrassed he can’t even tell if she’s angry because this is not how he wanted to tell her. He wanted it to be smoother, wanted to seduce her, wanted to get on his knees and ask her for it properly.

“Yes, either way.” she says across the drift. “You can still do all of the above, if it makes you feel better. But either way, it’s a yes.”

Raleigh Becket has never been so glad Mako Mori is not a good girl.

*

She tells hims to wait for her in her room and make himself comfortable. She says it with a hint of command that Raleigh likes more than he should and marches out of the room, upright and proper.

There’s a bottle of lube waiting on her bedside table, a box of condoms beside it. He wonders if she has a dildo, if she’ll put it in him, if she knows what she’s doing or is just making educated guesses. He doesn’t care, really. Mako could sit in his lap and they could rut together fully clothed until they come and that would be enough for him.

Taking it further is always fun though.

Mako comes in and looks pleased to find him shirtless, the belt open and zipper of his pants down, laying on his side reading the only book he could find in english. (He can’t actually read japanese beyond rudimentary symbols, always found speaking a language easier than studying it properly). “You made yourself comfortable?” she says, but it’s not a question.

“I did.” He closes the book on his thumb and sits up, a smile teasing his mouth as she closes the door and strips out of her shirt, kicks off her boots and comes to him in her pants and bra. There’s something in her pocket, and he could say a cheesy line but he doesn’t get the chance because she kisses him.

“Good.” she purrs against his mouth, small palm running over the front of his trousers, finding him hot and half hard and perking with interest. “Now I want to make you uncomfortable.”

*

“I’ve always wanted to do this.” she says breathlessly, sinking two fingers in knuckle deep, rubbing her right hand along the curve of his ass and down his thigh when Raleigh groans hungrily. “I’ve always wanted to do this, always--”

Raleigh wonders if she means with him, specifically, or just in general, and then finds it doesn’t matter because she works her fingers in and out of him slowly, like she’s afraid of hurting him, slowly, like she’s trying to torture him. He groans again, and she draws her fingers back and spreads more lube over them before pushing back in. He chokes himself on her name, wiggles his hips back for her. This is good but--

“C-can I--” he swallows, embarrassed at his stutter, at how obvious it is that he likes this. Mako pauses and hums inquisitively. “Can I turn over?”

“Of course.” she agrees, sliding her fingers out of him, resting her right hand on him as he turns over and flops onto his back. His cock stretches up towards his belly, hard and leaking and flushed red. Mako looks at it hungrily and he wonders if she’s thinking about it inside her, if she’s thinking about putting one steadying hand on his chest and riding him until she can’t come anymore. “Better?” she asks when he’s settled, and at his nod she slides both her fingers back in.

He likes looking at the heated flush of her face, the feverish gleam of her eyes as his thighs fall open and she settles comfortably between them. Then he can’t look at her anymore because her fingers are moving, and he clenches his eyes shut and moans for her so she knows how much he likes it. “God Mako, so good, thank you, this is so--”

“I haven’t even touched your prostate yet.” She smirks, twists her fingers a little so she can feel the reflexive clench of his hole. He doesn’t think he could handle her finding his prostate, but she looks determined and he likes being right where she puts him. Her small hands still slide up and down his sides soothingly. Her fingers crook up on each inward stroke, pressing a little deeper, twisting as she pulls out, so he feels like he’s being worked open, feels strung out and vapid.

Then she finds his prostate and he thinks he’ll never be human again. He groans loudly towards the ceiling, can’t stop his hip from working back and down onto her fingers, wants her fingers out of him and also never wants her to stop. Mako smiles as devilishly at him now as he had when he thought of her doing this. She strokes at his prostate mercilessly and he trembles under her, whimpering her name.

Why had he wanted this, why did he think it would be a good idea to give Mako some ace to hold over him like she didn’t already hold all the cards?

“MakoMakoMako please--” He whines. He can’t stop rocking his hips, the fitted sheet is pulling from the mattress beneath his balled fists and she doesn’t relent, just rubs in small circles. Her right hand holds his leg up, and it’s just like when she pinned him down except now he’s so utterly at her mercy.

She still grinning at him, and he feels like the air’s been punched out of him when she abruptly pulls away. He’s aching inside, wants something inside him, can feel the stretched lube slicked hole of his ass clench on nothing, lingering sparks of pleasure making his hips twitch. She pulls the dildo out of her pocket, looks him in the eye and runs her tongue up it’s hot pink length. “Jesus christ, Mako.”

She slicks the dildo with generous amounts of lube too, and Raleigh doesn’t tell her she doesn’t need to, that he sort of wants this to ache a little, because this is her show and she doesn’t want to hurt him. “Ready?” she asks seriously, and she waits for him to nod before she presses the smooth head of the dildo against his hole. She waits with it there, adding just a little more pressure so the head just kisses his hole before it starts pressing in.

“Oh--” Raleigh gasps as the head breaches the first ring of muscle and then keeps going. He shudders and feels like he’s made of jello, shaking and watery. It’s hot and tingling, building pressure that fills him up and pins him down and spreads him open and weak and vulnerable. “Oh--” is all he can say as he squirms, until Mako’s freehand rests on his hip and digs her thumb in to hold him still. “Mako!”

“How do you like it?” She asks when it’s completely inside him, all five inches of soft silicone pressed into his compliant body, as he took it just like she expected him to. She draws it out only a little before grinding back in, enjoying Raleigh’s ragged moan.

“Liked your fingers better,” he sighs. He reaches over his head to scrape blunt nails at the wall, at the pillow, before she reaches for his hand and puts it on her shoulder so he can scrape at her in abandon, so she can see his marks the next morning and know what she did to him.

“Oh yes? You didn’t wish I had a hard cock to bed you over and fuck you with?” she enunciates each letter, so it sounds so dirty in her sweet voice, coming out of her cute mouth. She punctuates the words with a smooth thrust, dragging out, pressing in, watching the shiny slick grasp of Raleigh’s hole with pleasure. “Didn’t you want me to bounce you in my lap? Or put your legs over my shoulders and bend you in half and fuck down into you?”

She expects him to answer, but he can’t. he can’t think, certainly can’t speak. Her dildo’s pace increases, pressing in, grinding, pulling out just a little bit, grinding in again; she has a strange rhythm that he doesn’t have the presence of self to predict so he lays there and moans and takes it. She’s driving him insane and he asked her to do it. “Mako!” he pleads, fingers digging into her shoulder hard, the other still fisted in the bed sheets. He sits up for a little leverage, fucks back onto her dildo, moans loudly. He can’t ask her properly, can only say her name over and over and hopes she understands.

“I asked you several questions, Raleigh.” She presses the dildo in deep and leaves it there, takes his leaking cock in hand and spreads precum over the sensitive head. He’s so full he could cry, writhes under her and feels the dildo press just so against his prostate. “Answer them and I’ll let you come.”

Raleigh squeezes his eyes shut, struggles to remember through the dizzy haze of Mako’s hand on his cock and her dildo in his hole. “Yes, wanted you to fuck me, like that you’re fucking me, keep fucking me please please pl--”

“You’re so obedient.” She says with a little laugh, taking the dildo to slam it in and out, tipped just slightly upwards so it presses against his prostate. Raleigh imagines she never expected to associate that word with him but that doesn’t matter, because he’s coming so hard he forgets his name.

But he remembers Mako’s. He screams it until he’s hoarse.

*

“You know you could have asked right?” Mako whispers so gently against the shell of his ear. “You wanted this so badly, you could have asked me, I wouldn’t have--”

“And say what? Heya Mako, i got a hankering for some anal play, wanna join in?” They both laugh, lazy sounds in the darkness. “it was weird.”

“But it was bothering you.” she says, almost urgently. Her hand smooths up and down his right shoulder, her fingers finding the lines of his scars even in the dark. They don’t ache right now, but he supposes that’s because everything else aches.

“It was stupid--”

“It was really bothering you.”

That’s when he notices, with his broad back pressed to her tiny chest and the warmth of Mako’s breath in his hair, that what she means is next time, he won’t have to ask. Next time, she’ll just know.

 

**Author's Note:**

> literally where did this come from?


End file.
